CHAPTER IV.--A PERILOUS SITUATION.

Sam Willett had courage and fortitude in no common degree, but the words

of Ulna, who stood dripping and panting before him, froze him with a

speechless terror.

He took the wet paper from the Indian boy's hand, but for some seconds

he had neither the courage nor the strength to open it.

The howling of the wind down the gorge and the hoarse roaring of the

maddened waters heightened the terror of the situation.

Wah Shin, though not well versed in English, fully understood the import

of Ulna's message, but realizing his own inability to do or to suggest

anything, he stood with his lips drawn and his little oblique eyes half

closed.

Ike was the only one of the party who did not appear to have lost the

power of speech. Taking the letter from Sam's hand, he said:

"Dat ar paper's powahful damp, an' I reckon, Mistah Sam, yeh kin read it

bettah if so be I dries it so's it won't fall to pieces."

Ike opened the paper and while he held it before the fire, Ulna briefly

explained the situation.

He said that Mr. Willett, Hank Tims and himself reached Hurley's Gulch

without any mishap.

They found the rude mining camp in a great state of commotion owing to a

robbery and murder that had recently been committed.

The more law-abiding, or rather the more industrious, for there was no

organized law in the place, had formed a vigilance committee to hang the

next murderer or robber, under the wild sanction of "lynch law."

"Just as soon as we reached Hurley's Gulch," continued Ulna, "we met Tom

Edwards, and he was very drunk and very abusive. He shouted to every one

he met that Mr. Willett had robbed him, and took Gold Cave Camp from him

without paying a cent, though he had promised fifteen hundred dollars."

"Why, the man lies infamously!" interrupted Sam. "I was a witness to

Edwards' receipt for the money in full, and I have it here among

father's papers."

"And that receipt is what your father must have at once in order to

clear him of the charge of robbery and murder," said Ulna.

"Murder!" repeated Sam.

"Yes. Last night Tom Edwards was found dying with a pistol bullet in his

breast, and with his last breath he swore to the men who found him that

your father and Hank Tims shot him to get rid of paying the money they

owed him. The vigilantes at once arrested Mr. Willett and Tom, and they

swear they will hang them if they do not prove that Tom Edwards was

paid. I saw the money paid myself, but they refuse to take the word of

an Indian," said Ulna, with a flash of indignation in his splendid black

eyes; then continuing, "but they agreed to let me come here for the

paper."

"Heah!" cried Ike, springing from beside the fire, "de lettah's dry

enough to read. Let's know w'at Mistah Willett he has to say foh

hisself."

Sam took the paper, and kneeling down to get the benefit of the light,

he read aloud as follows:

"_My Dear Son_:--I do not want you to be at all alarmed at my

detention. Ulna will explain why neither Tom nor I can return

till you have brought us the receipt which Tom Edwards signed

when I paid him the money in full for his claim at Gold Cave

Camp.

"This receipt you will find among the papers in my saddle-bags.

Bring it to me with all speed and leave Ulna back in charge of

the camp; it does not matter if the mining ceases till we

return.

"I regret to have to tell you that Tom Edwards is dead. He was

drunk when he received the shot that killed him, and he accused

Hank and me of the crime. If the people here knew us well they

would not believe this charge for one instant, but they do not,

and so we must wait till we can show the vigilance committee who

hold us prisoners, that we could have no motive for, even if we

were inclined to do this awful deed.

"I saw Frank Shirley here yesterday afternoon in company with a

well-known desperado who goes by the name of 'One-Eyed Badger.'

I cannot but think that these two men are at the bottom of this

new trouble, but what their reasons can be I cannot even guess;

certain it is that I have never done them or any one else a

wrong knowingly.

"Do not lose heart, for I have no fear as to the result: only

come as soon as you can to your loving father,

"_Samuel Willett._"

Sam read this over rapidly, then he read it a second time with more

deliberation.

"De boss am in a bad fix," groaned Ike, "an' I jest wish I could take

his place."

"I shall go to my father at once," said Sam, stoutly.

He went to the saddle-bags, got the necessary papers--the receipt and

deed--and placed them securely in the inner breast pocket of his

buckskin tunic.

"You no gettee on holse an' lide such night as deez coz it was so muchee

stolmy?" said Wah Shin when he saw Sam getting out his saddle, bridle

and rifle.

"I must get to Hurley's Gulch before another day," was the resolute

reply, "if I have to go there on my hands and knees."

"But you cannot go to-night," protested Ulna. "Come and see the danger."

He took Sam by the arm and led him out to the plateau before the

entrance to the cave.

It has been said that it but seldom rains in this land, but when it does

the watery torrents come down with a continued fury, of which the

dwellers in more favored climes can have only the faintest conception.

The bare rocks refuse to absorb the rain as it falls, and so the

ever-accumulating waters sweep into the canyons and fill the narrow beds

between the precipitous banks with wild torrents, that must be once seen

before an adequate idea can be formed of the tremendous and seemingly

irresistible power of water in action.

The four occupants of the caves, all fine types of four human races,

went out to the plateau.

The light, streaming through the cave opening, cut across the inky

blackness of the canyon like a solid yellow shaft, that made the

surrounding darkness more impenetrable.

Laden with sheets rather than drops of rain, the wind swept down the

ravine with a force that threatened to tear the observers from the rocks

and hurl them into the seething torrent.

"Before this time," said Ulna, speaking with the calmness that

distinguished all he said, "the valley is flooded and the horses up

there are drowned."

Sam shuddered but made no reply.

He went back to the cave, secured a lighted brand, and, returning to the

edge of the plateau, he dropped it over.

It went hissing down. If the current were as low as the day before it

should have fallen sheer down for a hundred feet, but before going half

that distance, it lit up an expanse of water white with foam, and was

extinguished.

The result of this experiment brought Sam's heart to his mouth, and he

could not have uttered a word if the life of the father he so well loved

depended on it.

"If she keeps on a-climbin' up dat way," groaned Ike, "de watah'll be

nigh into de cave by mawnin'."

Sam now recalled that he had found drift-wood lodged in the crevices of

the rocks, even higher than the entrances to the cave, and from this he

inferred that at the highest water no one could stay in the cave and

live.

Maj, the fine setter dog, had been moaning beside the fire all the

evening, but now he came out and crouched at his young master's feet, as

if his instinct told him of the danger and that he wanted protection.

Fearing that the poor horses were gone, and well knowing that it would

be madness to attempt to cross the canyon that night, Sam turned sadly to

his companions and said:

"We can do nothing till daylight comes. Let us get in out of the storm."

They returned to the cave and silently sat down on the stones that had

been placed for seats near the fire.

It was a most trying situation.

Even if Mr. Willett and Hank Tims had been safely there in the cave, the

ever-increasing storm and the possibility, or rather the certainty of

its danger if it continued would have been sufficient to drive sleep

from the eyes of all.

But Sam Willett, brave, unselfish youth that he was, gave no thought to

the peril of his own surroundings.

With his chin resting between his up-turned palms, he looked steadily at

the dying fire without seeing it.

His heart and his thoughts were ever with his sorely-tried father at

Hurley's Gulch, and he groaned as he read in the beating of the storm

the edict that might bar his going to the rescue.

But though unmindful of himself, it was not in Sam's nature to neglect

the comfort of others.

"Lie down, all of you," he said to his companions, "and I will stand

guard till daylight comes."

After a weak protest, Wah Shin, Ulna and Ike brought in their blankets

and lay down before the fire.

Ike pretended that he did not want to sleep, but, after an attempt at

desultory talk, his eyes closed and he soon became oblivious to his

surroundings.

Maj continued to be restless and frightened. Now and then, as if to

judge for himself how the storm was getting on, he would go to the cave

opening, and, after whining in a pained way for some seconds, he would

come back and crouch down near the fire with his nose resting on his

young master's knees.

To sorrow-stricken Sam Willett that night seemed like an eternity of

darkness.

He was beginning to feel that the storm had destroyed the sun, when the

grey light of another day began to creep slowly into the cave.

Lost in the Cañon The Story of Sam Willett's Adventures on the Great Colorado of the West · 第 4 / 36 章